


A Sword's Purpose

by Prompto_Cam



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Related, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mild Language, man to man talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 03:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13115463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prompto_Cam/pseuds/Prompto_Cam
Summary: After the fall of Insomnia, Cor is left feeling lost. Why is he alive? What should he do now? Good thing he can count on Cid to point him in the right direction, with a little help from a friend beyond the grave. (No pairings)





	A Sword's Purpose

**Author's Note:**

> So... I know it's been a while since I posted anything but writer's block has killed me. I haven't given up on AMONC and I am working on the next chapter. Thanks for all your patience guys.
> 
> I've had this idea in my head for about 5 months, and I finally got it written up to try and deal with this writer's block. This is a little different to what I usually write, but I hope you all enjoy.
> 
> Special thank yous to [Elillierose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elillierose) for beta reading and [Moon_Raccoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Raccoon_exe) for encouraging me all the time! <3

“Here. You look like you could do with some o’ this.”

Cor lifted his head from where he had been staring lost at his clasped hands; he looked to the glass being offered to him, filled with an amber liquid. “You know I don’t really drink, Cid.”

“Maybe not, but I’ve poured it now, ya brat. Drink up,” the older man insisted, pushing the glass into Cor’s hand anyway as he stepped around him. Cid lowered himself cautiously into the other chair in front of Cor, sipping at his own drink and watching the younger man expectantly. Cor said nothing, swirling the drink in his glass for a moment before he gave in and tossed half of it back down his throat. It burned, making him need to cough and his eyes water; definitely one of Cid’s own home brews. “That’ll put some hair on yer chest,” the old man chuckled.

They sat there in silence for a little longer, Cid watching Cor’s every movement. Every slight swirl of his drink, the narrowing of his eyes and tightening of his hands. Cid had known the boy long enough to spot his usual tells of frustration. Any minute now…

“I should have been there, Cid,” Cor finally muttered, trying to loosen his hold on the glass before he could break it. “I swore my sword to my King… and when he needed me the most, I was outside the wall. ‘The citizens must be your priority’, Clarus said… what use was I there?” He sighed, running a hand over his face.

“You saved lives, didn’t ya? Ain’t that what ol’ Reggie wanted?”

“That isn’t the _point,_ Cid, there were more than enough Crownsguard for that job, I should have been at his side. I should have been there to help him. Maybe with three of us, we could have stood a better chance. We could have-”

“Shut yer mouth, boy. Ya’ll ain’t learned a thing, have ya? Still, that snot nosed _brat_ rushing headlong to his early grave,” Cid snapped, throwing back the last of his drink and slamming the glass down on the table beside him. Cor bit back the snide remark that wanted to snap out.

“Don’t _patronise_ me, Cid, I’m not a kid.”

“Don’t be a damn idiot then! Do you really think Reggie _wanted_ you to be there in harm’s way?”

“I’m his _sword._ ”

“And he’s yer King. And more importantly, he’s yer _friend_ . Kid, Reggie and Clarus ‘ave been tryin’ ta keep yer ass alive since you were a boy. Ain’t nothin changed,” Cid shook his head, pushing himself out of his seat to pace back and forth. “Reggie an’ Clarus sent you outta the city to keep you _safe,_ Cor. Ya’ll ain’t finished livin’ yet.”

Cor fell silent, twisting the glass in his hands. They weren’t supposed to keep him safe. He had sworn his sword to King Mors and sworn it to Regis… why _deny him_ the chance to do what he had sworn to do?

“There’s somethin’ you gotta understand, Cor. The Crownsguard ain’t just for Reggie’s protection. They’re a guard of the people. When you made yer oath to stand as a guard, you sworn to do what you were told to do. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, kid,” Cid muttered, stopping to pick up the old photo he still kept in the garage.

“What good is a Crownsguard without its crown…?” Cor sighed, leaning back in his seat.

“Don’t be stupid, now. You still have a crown to protect. He’s out there, probably more lost, confused an’ angry than you are. He ain’t fit to wear it yet, but the crown belongs to him now. An’ he’ll need someone to tell him what ta do with it,” Cid set the picture down carefully, instead picking up an envelope; it was worn at the edges, covered in motor oil too, but he passed it off to Cor. “It’s what ol’ Reggie wanted from ya.”

Cor looked up at him with sceptical eyes but set his drink down and took the offered envelope. It was heavy with something inside, but first of all he took the letter out of it.

 

_My dearest old friend, Cid._

_I know it’s been a long time since I last came to visit. What has it been? 20 years? My deepest apologies for not visiting you sooner… I’m afraid I may not be able to visit you again at all._

_I’m getting old, Cid. My time isn’t far along now; the ring continues to eat away at my body, but my son is not yet ready to take my place. I fear he may soon not have a choice._

_Come now, don’t laugh at me. We’re both old men now._

_I’m afraid I have one last request to make of you, my old friend. I’m sure you recognize the package I’ve given you from our travels together. I need you to keep it safe for me now, until the right time comes. I’m not being cryptic, but you’ll know when that is. Make sure this makes it to Cor’s hands, he’ll know what needs to be done with it._

_Please, lend my wayward son some help. He’ll need your expertise to make it through this too._

_Goodbye, old friend._

_Reggie._

 

Cor laid the letter on the table to tip out the contents of the envelope, and into his hand fell a key. His eyes widened a little at the sight of it. “The key to the royal tombs…” He mumbled, looking up to Cid.

“His boy won’t know where ta go, Cor. An’ Reggie is trustin’ in you to guide him. _That’s_ why you’re here. That’s why he wanted you safe. Not least of all ‘cause he still thinks of you like a kid brother… I s’pose none of us ever really stopped thinkin’ of ya like that,” Cid admitted, settling back into his chair. Cor gently twisted the key in his hands.

“...Did you and Regis… did you guys _ever_ make up, after all that happened?” he asked curiously. The letter hadn’t sounded like two men still disagreeing with each other. Cid gave a huff.

“I guess ya could say that…” he muttered, turning his head to look out into the yard where Cindy had her head buried under a car hood. “When my girl Cindy came ta me, ‘bout twenty years ago, Reggie must’a heard ‘bout it. She were just a kid, only six years old. Losin’ her parents… it was a dark time in my life,” he explained, taking his hat off to drop it on the table. “Reggie turned up with Clarus on my doorstep. All soft smiles an’ sad lookin’ eyes.”

“And what happened?”

“I punched him in his _goddamn_ _mouth_ that’s what happened!” Cid huffed loudly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Lotta good that ‘shield’ o’ his was,” he mumbled, and Cor couldn’t help but scoff.

“Definitely sounds like something you’d do,” he said.

“Yeah well he ‘ad it comin’. But his boy were only a few months old. He’d just lost Aulea. I guess he knew how it hurt to feel like the world fell out from under yer feet. Can’t say we were exactly _friends_ in the end, but we got a lot off our chests. Said he’d come by again sometime, but… guess he got busy, bein’ King. And then after that _god forsaken_ crystal chose his boy… You’d know better than me what he were like after that.”

Cor nodded slowly. Regis was a very different man after Noctis was chosen. It was a cruel, harsh reality that he had to accept; his son would never get to die an old man. “It certainly changed a lot of things… Noctis doesn’t know what hardships he’s in for.”

“Then show him the way, Cor. He may have his friends with him, but they’re all still just kids. Clarus’ boy, the smart kid, the little blond brat… ain’t none of ‘em know what they’re up against. That blond kid… ain’t he your boy?”

“He was never _my_ boy, Cid.”

“Sure looked it when you turned up ‘ere with him on yer way home.”

“He was adopted.”

“Don’t stop him bein’ your boy.”

“ _Cid_ -”

“Alright, alright, whatever floats yer boat.”

Cor gave a deep, frustrated sigh. Now he understood why Clarus was never eager to visit the old bat. He was still frustrating company, even all these years later. “I better make a phone call,” he decided, pushing out of his chair to cross the garage and make his call in privacy.

Not that Cid couldn’t hear him anyway. He knew he was contacting the young Prince to tell him he was here. Not that he was going to bother saying anything about it as Cor wandered back over. “I’m going,” Cor declared, tucking the key into the inner pocket of his jacket.

“Didn’t you just tell tha boy ta meet ya here?”

“It’ll give me a head start. Let him know that I’ll be up at the tombs near Keycatrich Ruins. There’s an outpost there me and Monica can go to, she’ll tell him where to go,” Cor explained, picking up his discarded drink to throw the last of it down. He had a feeling he might be needing it, though it still _burned_ on the way down.

“Tch. Suit yerself. I reckon ya got ‘bout a half hour before they get here. Better get on movin’,” Cid said, fiddling with a ring of keys until he worked one off and tossed it lazily at Cor, who caught it with a swift hand. “Take one o’ my old trucks out the back. I ain’t gonna be needin’ it,” he said with a wave of his hand.

“Cid… thanks. For getting my head back in place…”

“Ah just get outta here boy, I don’t want any of yer sap talk. Go on, scram!” Cid huffed. Cor gave a scoff, but his half smile broke the illusion of annoyance against his older companion.

“Yeah… see you around, Cid.”

Cid watched him go with Monica in the borrowed truck as he set his hat back on and folded his arms across his chest. Cor really had changed from that little spitfire willing to take on Gilgamesh at only fifteen years old; but, he couldn’t help but think that maybe he still needed some guidance. Maybe he shouldn’t have been quite so harsh on him… No, it was what he’d needed.

“Ya’ll okay Pawpaw?” Cindy asked as she sauntered over, tugging off her soiled work gloves.

“Yeah… I think things are all okay now.”


End file.
